


Coworkers, and why they were a mistake

by stepOnMeZenos



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Amaurot (Final Fantasy XIV), Bickering, Gen, Pre-Sundering (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21783607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepOnMeZenos/pseuds/stepOnMeZenos
Summary: There are times when Emet-Selch regrets having joined the Convocation.This is one of them.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch & Lahabrea
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Coworkers, and why they were a mistake

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays!

“The aetheric balance was quite off-kilter the first time I tried. It resulted in… no, it was quite unappetising. I need not repeat it in good company. Either way, I had to go back to the drawing board and recalculate the formulas from scratch, which was rather embarrassing, to say the least—but then, how many people can claim to have created an entirely new life form without such missteps? None, I say, none.“

“Lahabrea,“ Emet-Selch said.

“I found my error quickly enough—I had miscalculated the aether density factor in Deudalaphon's aether spread equation. Of course it didn't work out after that; how could it? Foolish of me, I know, I know… Once I solved that particular issue, the creation was basically stable, but its shape and function left much to be desired at that stage.“

“Lahabrea,“ Emet-Selch repeated.

“It took a lot of careful tinkering, I can tell you that. The smallest alteration in the formulas can have drastic consequences. Why, we spent an entire week trying to figure out why the blasted thing started growing an additional three limbs out of its backside. And then there was that terrible business with the intern who misread the formula. Come to think of it, I should check up on him. I think they've released him from the hospital by now...“

“ _Lahabrea._ “

“But back to the topic! This weekend—we've been working overtime, see—I finally succeeded in creating a viable specimen. All measurements so far have had stable results. It is showing no signs of spontaneous disintegration, and we believe it will be able to fulfill its function admirably. At long last, gracing this star with its presence—“

“Lahabrea, for the love of Zodiark, will you _shut up_ for a moment?“

Emet-Selch stifled a groan when Lahabrea visibly flinched. Really. It was well known that getting Lahabrea started on any of his pet projects would incur a lecture of epic proportions, but they were sitting in the announcer's booth at a sold out stadium, waiting to deliver the opening address, for crying out loud. If there had ever been a place where talking at length about his latest ridiculous creation was misplaced, _this was it_.

“There certainly is no need to be this _rude_ , esteemed colleague,“ Lahabrea said. 

“Evidently there is, considering we have exactly—“ Emet-Selch consulted the clock mounted on the wall, “—two minutes and fifteen seconds until our address. Kindly do try to contain your talks of your latest experiment until afterwards, would you?“

Lahabrea's red mask covered the greater part of his expression, but the scowl twisting his lips was unmistakable. “I am aware of what time it is, thank you very much. One might almost think you are eager to fulfill your duty as part of the Convocation—if one did not know you better.“

Emet-Selch rolled his eyes, safely hidden behind his own mask. “It was _one singular time_ , Lahabrea.“ 

“One singular time you slept through your address to the Academeia Anyder, you mean.“

“Yes, I do mean that one singular time. Might I remind you that _you_ were curiously absent as well at the time?“

“I was away on important business, as I _believe_ I have already told you.“

“So you have, without saying what this oh so important business was.“ Emet-Selch leaned forward. “We have one minute and five seconds left. How about you tell me now? Surely a mind as esteemed as yours can find a way to condense such important business into that short a timespan.“ 

“Oh?“ Lahabrea mirrored his movement. “What happened to not talking about my projects before the address?“

“The fact that I know very well that you won't be able to condense _that_ enough to finish up before the microphones are on, and I'm sure you'll agree that that isn't something we should be broadcasting through a sold-out stadium.“ 

“I am _very much_ capable of containing myself and continue my explanation later. You, on the other hand? You should do your utmost not to fall asleep in the middle of the sentence.“

“That has never happened. Lies and slander.“

“Well, I think—“

The door to the announcers' booth opened. Both of them looked up to see Elidibus marching inside, expression as unreadable as ever. 

“What now?“ Emet-Selch asked. “We have an addr—“

Oh.

“The address you were supposed to already have started, you mean?“ Elidibus said. “By all means, please do. The people are wondering why you haven't yet.“ 

“This is _your_ fault,“ Lahabrea hissed at him moments before the microphones turned on.

Emet-Selch refrained from responding. The whole stadium did not need to hear him telling Lahabrea where exactly he could stick his fault.

About three hours later, Emet-Selch slunk off towards the VIP exit. Thank Zodiark this was finally over. He should have pawned his position on the Convocation off to Hythlodaeus after all. It would have spared him these dreadful public events. Such a massive waste of time that he could have spent on…

Lahabrea stood next to the exit. Oh, of course Emet-Selch would have to deal with him even more, why had he even thought otherwise? Lahabrea was not one to leave arguments unfinished. For better or worse. (This was definitely one of the 'for worse' times.)

“I demand an apology,“ Lahabrea announced.

“Well you're not getting one. I accept no blame for our delay.“

“How,“ Lahabrea asked, “is it not your responsibility that we missed our cue? _You_ provoked me and goaded me into a ridiculous verbal pi—“

“I did no such thing.“ Emet-Selch crossed his arms. “If _you_ hadn't started rambling at me about your latest pet project (that I did not in any way ask about, for the record), thereby forcing me to interrupt you so 'rudely', as you put it, we would have simply spent the time before the address in silence. If anything, you are the one at fault.“ 

“Oh, is that so? Perhaps I should bring up the nature of responsibility and fault at the Hall of Rhetoric. Surely you agree that it is never a mistake to visit even old and well-tread subjects to gain new perspectives on them, right, esteemed colleague?“

“Certainly, _esteemed_ colleague,“ Emet-Selch agreed. “I daresay some of us will bring up valuable insights during the debate, and even those of us who do not will find value in listening to their wiser, more knowledgeable peers.“

“ _Na_ turally,“ Lahabrea replied. “Debates should always strive to teach those of us who have less experience than our more wizened elders something new. I am sure it will be a most productive session. I will request that the debate overseers send you a personal invitation.“ 

“Why thank you.“ Bringing up that Lahabrea had served in his position for longer than Emet-Selch had—how gauche. One did not lord that over a colleague. It was highly inappropriate. “I shall be sure to attend. I would not miss your arguments for _anything_ in the world. After all, you are _such_ a gifted speaker.“ 

The downturned corners of Lahabrea's mouth were enough of a sign that the sarcasm wasn't lost on him. “I shall endeavour to craft a speech that will satisfy your expectations. Until then, colleague.“ Finally, he left his spot blocking the door and walked past Emet-Selch, deeper into the building. 

Once he was out of earshot, Emet-Selch allowed himself one audible groan. Out of all the various reasons why he had not been keen on accepting this position, the fact that he would have to deal with the _other_ Convocation members had been one he should have taken more seriously.

_Certain_ members of the Convocation were quite alright. 

Lahabrea was not one of them.


End file.
